


chance encounter

by Anonymous



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ex-Valk, Gen, Origin Story, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: my take on how shu and mika met
Relationships: Itsuki Shuu & Kagehira Mika
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15
Collections: Anonymous





	1. prologue

Mika stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him, going over its metal framing for the fiftieth time. Nothing changed. It didn't move. Nothing in the room did, except his thoughts, half-forming in his head and dissipating before he could make sense of them, like a factory with a broken machine.

He turned onto his side. In the daylight he would be better, but under the shadow of the moon he couldn't help being consumed by his own darkness. 

He was already fifteen. He would have to leave the orphanage soon, a throwaway child with barely-passing school grades, no aspirations, and not a single guiding hand in the world. His chest felt heavy. Why, why did he have to leave? Why was everything like this? The moon didn't answer. Its light glistened on his tears and cradled him in his troubled sleep.


	2. what do you love

He woke up late. So much so that his morning greeting wasn't the sunrise as usual, but sweet little Yui standing at his bed with a bowl of oatmeal and worried eyes that brightened once they met his.

"Good mornin', Mika-nii! Uhh, we got ya an extra breakfast. Cause ya were gonna miss it if ya kept sleepin'," she rattled off, holding the bowl out to him. It almost didn't process in his groggy mind, but once he took a hold of it his face softened. Cold though it was, they'd gone out of their way to get it for him, because they noticed when he fell out of his routine. He set it down on the side table and held his arms out to give Yui a hug.

"Thank ya kindly, Yui-chan. Y'all're real kind to me. Mika-nii's gonna eat his breakfast an' do chores n' stuff, n' after all that I'll come n' hang out with ya, 'kay?"

"Yay!! I'll be waitin' for ya!" She bounced out the door, giving him one final wave before pulling it completely closed.

He played around with his oatmeal a bit, staring into it like it held a code that he could decipher. For better or worse, moments like this reminded him that he was real, he was loved, he was missed. For some reason, it never stuck.

After the meal, he got dressed, and he made a beeline to where Mom would be.

"Good mornin', Mom," he greeted.

"Ah, good mornin'. I didn' see ya at breakfast. Were ya bein' lazy as usual?" She let out a light laugh.

"Naww, just overslept 's all. But I was wonderin'. 's there any way I could stay here 'n work with y'all, when I turn eighteen n' all?"

"Work with us? Ya could pop in as a volunteer, if ya had the time, but..." Her voice dropped, as though there could be children listening at any moment. "Ya know how it is. The two of us're enough, accordin' to the higher-ups."

His eyes dropped to the floor. The reality went unspoken; they weren't enough. All they could do was their best, and their best couldn't give every child a chance.

"I gotcha. Thank ya, Mom," he responded, setting off to do his tasks, thinking about a world that let so many like him fall through the cracks.

When he finished, his downtrodden mood cleared up a bit as he sought out Yui. She was never hard to find, preferring to spend her free time playing games or, like today, doing puzzles. She stared intensely at a half-done one now, lost in thought to the point where she jumped when Mika addressed her.

"Aha, sorry to bother ya." He sat down next to her, examining the board. She'd drawn out the edges first and was now fiddling with where to put the middle pieces. "Yer doin' the butterfly one again? Ain't it pretty hard?"

"It's cute! Anyway, I gotta do hard ones or 'll never get better, yanno!"

"Are ya gonna be a puzzle-solvin' master when ya grow up?" he laughed.

"Yes!! I'll be the best one in the world!" she exclaimed, her face alight.

"That's real good. I could never do somethin' like that, so ya must be real talented. 'S good ta have somethin' ya love like that."

"What do you love, Mika-nii?"

"I-" The question took him aback. What did he love? He didn't like puzzles or games very much, he wasn't sporty, and there were no jobs that appealed to him. Well, there was one...

"I love y'all," he replied after a second. "Every one o' my li'l siblings."

"I love ya too!!" Yui chirped back, and he echoed her smile as he patted her on the head.

As he watched her figure the puzzle out, his mind wandered, tuning in to the bits and pieces of his environment. Laughter coming from the other kids in the room, the light of the television out of the corner of his eye, a voice announcing some band. He turned to glance over and saw God.


	3. a memory

_He'd been warned about going through the trash before, but surely not everything in the bags had to be disposed of, surely there was a place in the world for broken teddy bears and pants with one too many holes in them. If no one else, he could make a place for them, keep them aside for when he was a little bigger..._

_His hoard set aside, he pushed the rest of the bags into the trash bins and, in his haste to get back, nearly ran into someone. His mouth moved to stutter out apologies, but they died on his lips as he locked eyes with the boy before him. Was it accurate to call him a boy? He surely wasn't human. He radiated a sense of otherworldly beauty with his ruffly clothes, neatly-cut hair, and pink-tinged face, and Mika felt that if he reached out to touch him he'd get burned, cast away from his heavenly aura, and yet he tried._

_As quickly as he appeared, he was gone, running away from someone calling after him. Mika's fingers grasped the air as he watched him go._

_When he came back to his senses, the teddy bear was leaking stuffing all over the ground. He gathered up everything he dropped, ran back home, and for several weeks after returned to that spot every day, wondering if the boy would come back._

There was no mistaking it. His gaze felt like it was poring into Mika's soul as he sat side by side with an angel, captivating him with a haunting melody about a more beautiful world.

Ticket information showed up on the screen, and it carved itself into Mika's mind. He never spent money, so he had a decent amount saved up. Enough, maybe, to get him a ticket and a train there and back. Enough to reach out just one more time.

He skipped out on helping with dinner. Instead he sat on his bed, counting up all his change. He sought out Mom and volunteered to work himself to the bone as long as necessary in exchange for extra spending money now. With that he scraped together enough for a seat in the back of the auditorium. He learned that God's name was Shu Itsuki, and for one day, he would be an unnoticed addition to his thousands of subjects. That night, he pulled a broken teddy bear out from under his bed, and the dirty corduroy told him in the morning which dreams had really been dreams.


	4. a sense of something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: nonconsensual face grabbing, mention of weight

As he stood at the train station, it occurred to Mika that he might not ever come back.

Of course, he didn't dare to hope. He'd learned by now that having hopes only led to sorrow. He would go, he would listen, and he would leave. That was all that he could ask for. Even knowing that, his heart felt tugged on by a sense that there would be more. That maybe he should have said goodbye. 

But, well, it wasn't like whether he stayed or went made any difference.

He boarded the train with nothing but his ragged clothes and glasses, and he watched the scenery fly by. The world was so large, so beautiful, he thought. Maybe somebody like him had a place after all.

Stumbling his way around the unfamiliar city, Mika somehow managed to find the auditorium where the live was being hosted. Rarely did he ever go into the outside world to begin with, much less to somewhere so huge, with so many people. But if he just kept his head down, covered his right eye, didn't cause any trouble, he would be alright, he hoped.

From his seat, the stage was small, and certainly those on it would be much smaller. He didn't think to consider that it could be better, simply putting his glasses on and pulling his bangs back to take in what he could in the dim lighting. 

The live started without prelude. God and his angel walked out onto the stage, and before Mika knew it he was enraptured once again. Their voices intermingled perfectly, breaking their way through his ears and into his heart. He lost track of time watching the pink, gold, red, black, moving in a precisely coordinated manner, like it was their purpose to perform as much as it was Mika's to watch. At some point it vaguely occurred to him that he'd begun crying, but wiping his tears meant tearing his eyes away.

When they finished, they had nothing to say, merely holding for applause as though it were a matter of course that they owed the audience nothing but their performance. Mika didn't clap, shell-shocked. It was over entirely too soon, but then, it always would be too soon. The last thing he wanted now was to go home and let this night become a memory. No, if he could make the choice, he would stay in their domain, a captive audience to every piece of art they wanted him to bear witness to, forever. 

But he'd always, always been a beggar. He finally stood up, getting a hold of himself, as the two departed the stage, and he knew he really had to leave now. The other boy went backstage, but Shu's confident stride in following after him broke, his head turning to the remainder of the auditorium. Mika was far from the last person to exit, but getting the sense that he'd become an intruder, he shuffled quickly out of his seat.

"You."

He wondered who was fortunate enough to have business with the performers as he headed down the aisle.

"I said, you." This time, the voice was accompanied by a strong hand on Mika's shoulders, forcing him to turn around.

His eyes bugged out. Here he was again, face to face with this boy from so long ago. Up close, his outfit was even more intricate, perfectly tailored and with buttons, chains, all sort of small details, worlds away from Mika's too-big shirt and sweatpants. He was a few inches taller than Mika now, but it felt like an astronomical difference, and he finally understood, looking at the sheen of sweat on his forehead, that this was really a human. 

He grabbed on to the back of a chair for balance as Shu's hands cupped his cheeks, turning his head to different angles, surveying his face. He was uncomfortably close now, his breath coming out just a little heavy, and Mika picked up the scent of roses on his body. He pulled Mika's glasses off, tucking them onto his collar, brushed his bangs back, gave him a puzzled look when he closed the eye that'd been covered. 

"Open your eyes." It wasn't a request as much as it was somebody who knew his wishes would be granted clarifying them. Mika did, looking away from him, examining his clothing more instead. He heard a contemplative noise, but couldn't even begin to try to understand its intentions, as the hands stilled for a moment.

When they moved again, they ran fingers through his hair, catching on knots, making their way down to undo his ponytail. "This won't do," he muttered to himself, pulling it all back in a slightly more neat manner and backing away.

"Stand up straight." It occurred to Mika for a brief moment that he could run away. Anyone else would do so. He didn't understand why he was being examined like this. But, if this person were going to hurt him, he'd have done so by now, wouldn't he?

He stood up, his shoulders turned forward. Shu lifted his shirt up enough to examine his waist, and Mika squirmed out of his grasp, covering himself back up and backing a couple of steps closer to the door. The other looked confused at him, but didn't press it.

"Well, your weight is disturbingly low, but nothing about your body is irreparable, aside from your eyes. Sing something."

That command caught him off guard. The only well-known songs in the orphanage were pop songs that showed up on the television, and surely that wouldn't hold up to this man as a test of talent, or whatever he was trying to prove. Regardless, he did, until he was told to stop.

"Go home and pack for at least a two-week stay," he stated like it was nothing, writing something on the back of Mika's ticket stub, "and return to this address tomorrow." 

"W-Wha- What're ya talkin' about, pack up my thin's? Why's it matter how my hair is or anythin'?"

"If you're opposed to becoming part of Valkyrie, then don't. It makes no difference to me. I suspect, however, that it would make a large difference to you."

_Becoming part of Valkyrie._ The concept was dizzying; there was no way he could produce anything of their caliber, there was no reason it should be him that was chosen, this had to be a dream, a wonderful dream that he'd wake up from and go back to his normal life, or maybe a sick joke, or a trap. He held up the ticket stub to look at the address, and in his sight was Shu walking away.

"Wait!" he called out. Wait for what? Confirmation that this was real? Answers? His intuition told him he'd never get answers from this person. Shu turned his head. "Um... I-I'm real flattered, n' all, but... why? I mean, if yer lookin' for someone I'm the last person ya'd want, there's no way I'd be able t-"

"Cease your rambling." Mika fell silent. "I wasn't looking for anybody. You caught my eye, and I find your current condition sufficient as a canvas to improve to my standards. We will discuss more tomorrow." With that, he really did walk away, and Mika stood in an auditorium that, just ten minutes ago, had been full to the brim with people that it would become his job to entertain. He held a ticket to Heaven in his shaking hands.


	5. sleepless nights

The train ride back was nearly silent. The rhythmic motions lulled Mika into a half-asleep state as he watched city lights fly by, the urban answer to the stars.

Every possible objection to Shu's proposal ran through his head. He had no musical training, he could barely stand one person looking at him, much less being televised, his body wasn't even up to his own standards... And yet, Shu had faith in him. Who was he to question the whims of a higher power?

His home was still, unmoving. He wondered if he could grab just a few hours of sleep and leave in the morning, before anyone had time to see him and ask questions he couldn't answer. He found his way to his room, closing the door slowly and letting out a breath he'd been unconsciously holding in.

He looked at his side table, mostly bare save for a few abandoned cups of water and now his glasses. In the drawer, a three-month supply of testosterone injections, about 3000 leftover yen, and a mishmash of mostly-identical hand-me-down clothes. Digging under the bed, he pulled out a small hoard of clothes he'd never been able to bring himself to throw away, ratty stuffed animals, and long-expired chip bags saved from the excursions of older teenagers, now years gone. Folded up as neatly as he could, he could fit his entire life's material accumulation into a bag and carry it with him. He may as well take it all.

He found a backpack tucked into the corner of a closet somewhere, sifted the wearable clothes out of his hoard to leave for the others, and put the unwearable ones at the bottom, followed by his clothes, and on top, the stuffed animals and chips, with his medicine, money, glasses, and ticket in a separate pocket. It all fit under the bed, and with that bare he crawled in to attempt some rest.

Staring at the wall, it was immediately obvious that he wouldn't be sleeping that easily. The clock by his bedside read 00:46. He had about five hours to kill, however he was going to do it. He spent the first of them aimlessly thinking, worrying mostly. Whether he could really be a part of Valkyrie, whether he could really be a part of anything, after all, he didn't mean anything to the kids, or did he? Did it matter? Would he end up trapped between two places, unable to belong in either? He couldn't come up with answers other than hopelessness, failure at every fork. But if that was the case, if God put so much effort into letting him choose where to fail...

He sat up, groggy from being in a half-asleep state, and pulled the clothes he'd saved out again. Quietly, slowly, he gathered them up in his arms, and took them down into the laundry room. Carefully, he pulled down the hand-washing basin, filling it with a slow stream of water. There was no sense making more work for anyone else. His disappearance would be convenient, a gap that was clean and easy to fill back in. The little world in this orphanage would carry on without even the ghost of his presence left behind. One day, so too would the earth. Even though the thought was natural to him, he saw tears fall into the water.

The dust was easy enough to get off. He worked slowly, deliberately, careful not to spill or make too much noise. He hung them up to dry alongside the rest of the clothes, and put everything right back where he'd found it.

01:52, read the clock on the wall. He didn't want to do anything else to kill time. He was tired. His mind had gone, and maybe his body would, too. He trudged back up to his room and let exhaustion overcome him, alternating between dreams of beautiful, godly pink-haired men. 03:22. The same scene of a dark, silent room as he occasionally remembered he wasn't really asleep. 04:17. Angelic choirs. 04:31. The moon on his face. 04:43. Yui watching him leave, her face indiscernible. 04:59. The dim blue of the clock reading 05:03.

Close enough. He pulled himself up, dragging the backpack out, making his bed neatly, and walking out the front door without looking back.


	6. different worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: disordered eating [discussion, no numbers/amounts], weight [mentions, no numbers], self harm [mention], flashbacks/abuse/bullying [implied]
> 
> from here on out, all the fancy poetic plot stuff is pretty much done with, so even though this is a pretty big chapter it's just slice-of-life _(:3」∠)_

The sparse scattering of people at the train station looked as tired as he did. He held his bag close, resting his head on it, as he took his first steps into the world as a real person, with no one behind him. It occurred to him faintly that he could go back, that he should go back, should act like nothing happened. The doors opened, and his stop was announced. People pushed past him on their way in and out, barely paying attention to his existence. He kept walking.

By the time he was near the written address, he was taking every measure to shrink into the background. The houses were all large, old, and definitely expensive, to the point where he felt at any moment that he could be accosted as a suspicious person. The one he stood in front of now was no different. It was certainly the right place, though, with its intricate detailing, speaking to the level of technique on the clothes its residents wore and the way they carried themselves.

He knocked, so faintly that he wouldn't be surprised if it went unheard. A moment of tense silence, then two, and a woman opened the door. She was clearly a relative of Shu's, sharing his feathery hair, impossibly beautiful features, and imposing height, but she was older, and the aura that Shu gave off of being ready and willing to slice down those he deemed unworthy was magnified by the fact that unlike him, she had no reason to humor Mika. 

"U-um, 's there a Shu-san here?" he stammered out.

The door slammed in his face. Before he could process the implications of it, there were pounding footsteps and the door was shoved open just as feverishly. Whatever had Shu so riled up, he calmed down as soon as he grabbed Mika by the wrist. "Good. You didn't-" he breathed, cutting himself off. When Mika showed no signs of resistance or fleeing, he let go, straightening himself up. "You may come in."

Even with explicit permission, Mika simply stared inside. It must have been half the size of the orphanage, but housing one family instead of twenty-five or so children in the same space gave it a large, empty quality, without even touching on how everything within it was either so old or so fragile that Mika being in the same room was a hazard.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day." True to his word, he started back up the stairs, and Mika scrambled inside, kicking his shoes off out of habit before remembering to take a second to align them nicely, and closing the door as gently as he could. By the time he caught up to Shu, the other had cleared the stairs and was swiftly walking down the oversized hallway towards what must have been his bedroom. He ducked into it, and a moment after, Mika stood in the doorway.

In the orphanage, the rooms were roughly the same. Mom and Dad had gotten creative with paint colors, such that Mika's room in particular was blue, but other than that they fit the same model of two sets of bunk beds and a shared dresser between them. No frills, no carpet, no decorations unless somebody happened to take to having a collection. 

Shu's room exacerbated the sense that the two came from entirely different worlds. Not only was it his, and his alone, but the walls were lined with displays of his expensive hobbies. A glass cabinet filled with unique-looking porcelain dolls, all wearing similarly styled but distinct clothing. Two dress forms with red, black, and gold fabric draped over them. Fabric, more fabric, all neatly folded and clearly organized and labeled. A large closet with altered school uniforms, what must be old Valkyrie costumes, and an impressive amount of other beautiful clothing. A dresser, on top of which were soft-looking knitted garments. And a doily under it all, naturally. As Shu moved to look through the closet for something, Mika could see a table which he must have been doing work on, on top of which sat yet another lovely doll, wearing a small purple blouse and black skirt, which seemed to match Shu's apparel perfectly. 

Shu snapped Mika out of his trance by pulling him forward, forcing him to step in enough that he could close the door behind him, then tugging the backpack off of his shoulders and holding out a set of clothes.

"You may use my closet to change," he said without prelude. It felt wrong, looking at the nice red shirt and black pants, to put them on, but as he was beginning to understand, he was operating at Shu's pace now, and it didn't pause for objections or awe.

The closet fit him comfortably, such that he didn't worry about snagging any of the expensive finery it was full of. The shirt, however, had short sleeves, such that all the cuts, bruises, and scabs on his arms were visible.

"Can I have my jacket? 'S in the bag," he asked quietly, as though it were a transgression.

"Is it too cold for you?"

"No, 's nothin' like that, jus', I don't like people seein' my arms, 's all."

"If I'm not permitted to even see your body, exactly how am I meant to create clothing to fit it?"

"To create..." The gears that had been turning on inspection of his room finally clicked into place, and he turned his head to the clothing he was pressed up against. "You made all'a this?"

"Made or tailored, yes. Did you just now figure that out?"

"No! I mean, yeah, but- Even what ya were wearin' yesterday? It was sooo pretty, it felt like it wasn't anythin' a human could make."

"At the very least, you have the ability to appreciate art. In any case, stop hiding behind the door."

"Nnn..." Mika stepped out, and immediately Shu's face furrowed as he lifted one of Mika's arms.

"Tell me what you eat in an average day."

"Um," he struggled to categorize an "average" day, but detailed the typical dishes served, and the fact that he often worked through lunch.

"And you are how old?"

"Fifteen."

"No wonder you're so scrawny. Judging by these bruises, it's possible that you're anemic, as well. And these," he ran a thumb over a small checkerboard of scarring-over cuts, and Mika drew back slightly, "are not going to be tolerated. Is that clear?" He nodded, but his eyes fell to the ground. Shu seemed satisfied with that, instead pulling at his shirt, noting the places where it was baggy on him. He tucked it in in such a way that it almost looked stylish. "This will do for now. At the very least, it's more suitable than what you were wearing before. Exactly what kind of conditions are you living in?"

"It was nothin' bad, if that's what ya mean. I had a place to sleep at night, n' food, n' all, so I couldn' complain. I jus' took the clothes that the other kids didn' want, cause they had holes or somethin'."

"That certainly would explain why you complied with such a ridiculous request so easily. I assume you have no intentions of going back, but as it stands I can make no promises of permanent housing here. Two weeks is what I can allot as reasonable to get your affairs in order, and you in a proper state to become an idol, before it becomes suspicious." 

So it hadn't been a real goodbye after all. It occurred to Mika that he could have left a note, in hindsight. His shoulders relaxed a little, a weight off them.

"Whaddaya mean by proper state? I don't got any musical training, or anythin', I kinda jus' came here on a whim."

"I figured as much. However, your singing voice is not terrible, and you won't have to worry about being on display if you don't meet my standards. Today, my focus is primarily on your appearance." He picked up a notebook from the desk next to him and began to write notes as he spoke. "What is your name, by the way?"

Mika suppressed a laugh at the two managing to go twelve hours without even knowing his name, but then, it wasn't surprising at all. He had that effect on people. "Kagehira. Mika Kagehira, but, my given name is kinda like a girl's, so jus' Kagehira's ok."

"Kagehira." He was merely testing the name on his lips, but it sent a shiver down Mika's spine, a new awareness that it really was him, standing here in front of the most gorgeous, talented person he'd ever met, being showered with kindness by his hands, transformed into something beautiful. "I'll cut your hair first. I'll also have to create a diet plan, you're 168 centimeters tall, correct?"

"How did ya-"

"Yes, then. I'll weigh you later, but prepare to be eating much more than usual. What is the number for your... residence?"

"'S an orphanage. Ya can ask for," he paused, as it hit him that he'd never actually known his "parents'" names, "well, I guess everyone calls 'em Mom n' Dad."

"Then, I'll contact them for a transcript of your grades and identity information. You'll be transferring to Yumenosaki Private Academy, and as such will need to pass their entrance exams. If you can perform to the standards I expect of you, there should be no problem in that regard. Finally, I'll need your measurements and weight, and in the meanwhile you'll set up the guest room to your liking." He shut the notebook, setting it on the table. Even if most of the tasks required little effort on Mika's part, performing to Shu's standards was certainly a bar that few people - or, more precisely, exactly one person - could meet.

"Come on, Kagehira." He strode out of the room, and Mika scurried behind him, until they ended up in the shower room. Shu moved the stool from the wall outward, and Mika took him leaving to get supplies as a cue to sit. 

"If yer gonna cut my hair, wouldn' my clothes've done jus' fine?" he mused when the other returned, feeling the fabric, stiffer and tighter than his cotton shirts.

"I dislike such sordid dress in any context, and I don't particularly care about what happens to those clothes, as I outgrew them years ago."

Mika could feel himself going red. He hadn't considered their origin, and maybe it would have been flattering to have something made just for him, but wearing Shu's old clothes made him feel like he really was being lifted up to the same level, far above that of any normal human. The hand guiding him to lean back lit him up with a radiance that he'd never felt before. It didn't matter if it was okay to feel it right now. It wasn't as though he could do anything about it. As the warm water ran over him, he felt his face slipping into a blissful smile.

Eventually satisfied with his inability to catch his fingers on knots in Mika's hair, Shu dried it off, then combed and adjusted it before putting a towel around Mika's shoulders and dampening it again. Like this, it fell down just past his shoulders and completely covered his eyes, and he tried to recount his last haircut. It wasn't as though he cared enough to ask, so it must have been several months if not a year ago. Shu parted his hair such that he could see, and Mika stared into his eyes as the other looked past him in concentration. Looking now, Shu's features really didn't have a single flaw. It was as though he'd been sculpted, rather than born, even though he looked like his mother.

"Hey, Itsuki-san? I know 's kinda a weird question, but are ya really a human? I mean, it ain't a problem if ya aren't, 's just yer so, pretty? An' like, real good at everythin', an' when we met-"

"Quiet. You're distracting me." Once he complied, Shu went back to his work. "Unfortunately, I am. A select few humans are born as artists, and I am among them."

 _Artists._ He contemplated the word a bit. If this was an artist, if Valkyrie was his art, then he was being molded into a piece of it, a humble brushstroke in the painting of a genius. The thought was oddly comforting. If he could never aspire to leave the background, then he could aspire to choose who to be a background to, to define his success in their standards, to leave a nameless but beautiful mark on the world.

The scissors stopped, and Shu dried his hair once again, brushing it down, snipping at strands, cleaning him up. He held out a mirror to let Mika see his handiwork. Both of his eyes stared back at him, and instinctively he went to cover his right one, only to find that what was left of his bangs wasn't quite enough to hide it. 

"I look..." How did he look? Cute, with his scruffy hair. Beautiful, with his borrowed clothes. Accursed, with his mismatched eyes. Pitiful, reaching up with a scarred-over hand. All at once too much and too little. "mmm... Am I really fixable?" he asked without expecting an answer.

"From what I've seen of you so far, yes," Shu answered matter-of-factly. "Wash your hair thoroughly. I will be outside the door with clothes for when you're finished." With that, he left to uphold his end, and Mika followed suit, getting as many stray hairs out as he could, scrubbing the rest down with a towel, and successfully turning his cutely scruffy hair into a rat's nest, before eagerly grabbing his clothes. Another set of old ones, this shirt with long sleeves that comfortably covered his wrists and a much softer fabric, thicker and less ruffle-heavy. 

On sight, Shu immediately started fussing with his hair, straightening his shirt, and poking at his slouched posture. "It's nearing lunch time," he mused once he was satisfied. "For today, something basic should suffice. Do you have any allergies?"

"No, I don' think so."

"Good. Go downstairs and immediately to your left." He waited a moment for Shu to begin leading the way, but he broke off in order to go into his bedroom, leaving Mika with a striking sense of being lost. Doing as Shu said, he tiptoed downstairs and into the kitchen, where the stern woman from earlier sat across from a man who must have been in his seventies at least, eating their lunch already. The man's eyes immediately shot to him, and he backed up against the wall.

"And who's this, now?" he laughed in a booming voice.

"A potential addition to my collection." Shu's voice was simple, but without warning, Mika started and hid behind the nearby island, drawing a laugh out of the man. 

"He sure is cute! Your type is turning out to be shy boys, huh? Hey, kid, you can come out! I don't bite. I can't, I have no teeth!" He and only he laughed at his joke.

"I have told you countless times that Nito and I have no romantic affiliations. Is your skull getting thicker as you age? Kagehira, get up." No response. Shu cleared the distance between them, but as he sought Mika out his glare involuntarily softened. Mika didn't make eye contact, wearing the same tense expression Shu saw in himself when bad memories came back to haunt him. 

"I hope you do not intend to allow that... to remain in our house, especially without supervision," the woman said coolly.

"And if I do?" 

"You will be responsible for him and anything he steals or breaks."

"I've already accepted that responsibility." 

"Give the kid a little credit!" the man insisted, finishing up his food. "What a good meal. Let's leave them alone now." The woman rolled her eyes but complied, and the two were soon gone. 

"My mother and grandfather," Shu explained to his silent audience. "They will not hurt you."

"Should I leave?" Mika ventured to ask quietly, peering his head over the counter. 

"And here I thought your stupid questions had hit their apex. You will know if I want you to go home." Shu pulled out a small assortment of cooking tools and got to work on something as he spoke.

"But I'm a burden." Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. "Ta you, ta yer mom, ta everyone," he mumbled.

"Then don't waste my time with meaningless apologies, and work on it. In the meantime, give me the number for your residence." As Mika did, he opened his notebook, holding the surprisingly unglamorous flip phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he worked. "Is this Mom? My name is Shu Itsuki. Mika Kagehira is in my custody at the moment. Yes, he is safe. You may speak to him, if you wish." His eyes turned to Mika, and he held the phone out, the other perking up slightly as he took it.

"Mom?"

"Where in the world are ya? Ya had me worried sick, takin' off without a goodbye like that!" her voice rang out.

"Eh? I figured ya'd be glad I'm gone, though? Anyway, 'm in Kobe, n' Itsuki-san is real nice, so ya don't gotta worry."

"Are ya comin' back? Well, either way, ya've gotta call me once in a while, okay?"

"Nn... Yea, I will. Sorry for bein' a bother." He handed the phone back, apparently deaf to her consolation.

"I intend to have Kagehira transfer to the school I attend. To that end, I will need his documentation and a transcript of his grades. Why? I am the leader of the most prestigious idol group at Yumenosaki Academy, and if he is to join me, it's imperative that he be enrolled there. Well, I will see if he can handle it. I will need them before the start of the school year."

Like every other matter, he approached phone calls without formalities, and simply hung up. A few minutes later, he presented Mika with a large bowl of rice and steamed vegetables, and sat across from him with a relatively empty-looking one. "Let's eat," he said, taking small, elegant bites.

"This's a lot," Mika murmured. "Let's eat."

Try as he did, he still made a mess of himself while eating, occasionally picking rice off of his shirt and popping it in his mouth, much to Shu's disapproval. Regardless, he finished as much as he could, a little over half the bowl, before pushing it away, whereas Shu's bowl remained mostly full.

"How come ya hardly have any?" he finally questioned.

"You simply have more, given that you need to put on weight."

"Well, yeah, but yer bigger than me, and ya've got less than we'd get back home. Do ya want the rest'a mine?" 

"I don't." 

Unsure of what to say to that, Mika simply stared at the table in silence. Shu seemed one for neither conversation nor haste, and the last bite of his rice must surely have been cold by the time he took it. 

"Now then. I said that you would need to prepare the guest room, but given my mother's apprehension, you'll be sleeping in my bedroom for tonight at minimum. You will not touch anything in it without permission. Clean up the table. I will be waiting for you there." That much Mika knew how to do, gathering up the bowls and taking them to the sink, looking around hopelessly for the soap and finding it on the opposite side of what appeared to be a boxy drying rack. He sang a little song to himself as he scrubbed down the few dishes and put them in the rack to dry, heading up to the room where Shu was now standing at the ready with measuring tape, apparently low on patience.

After some wrangling, Shu managed to get what he needed out of Mika, and immediately began pulling clothes out of a somewhat dusty box and putting pins in them. As he did so, he glanced over to see Mika standing there as if unsure of what to do. "Put your clothes back on. You are free to explore the house, but not to leave it, unless you have a means of contacting me." 

Exploring the house seemed like the opposite of what he wanted to do, and he had never felt the need for a phone, so he complied with at least getting dressed, and from there walked around the bare floor, looking from a comfortable distance at the display of dolls. Shu must have made their clothes, he realized now that he had the time to think about it. His style was evident in the frills, the meticulous detailing, the sense that each of them was a real girl in miniature.

"Itsuki-san," he started, undeterred by the lack of response. "When ya said earlier, somethin' about addin' me to yer collection... D'ya mean like these dolls?"

"Yes. Although, you will not have the luxury of sitting unburdened on a shelf, unless I find that you're only useful like that."

"'M I the first one ya found thrown away, n' all broken?"

"I typically don't waste my time with damaged goods, but the first doll I obtained was found discarded by my ancestors, in a cellar among trash."

"So why're ya wastin' yer time with me?" His tone was flat, as though it were a matter of obvious reality rather than self-deprecation. Shu seemed suddenly too absorbed in his work to respond, prompting Mika to move on. The fabric was definitely off-limits, and so he walked over near the bed - almost sitting on it, but reminding himself that it certainly counted as something not to be touched - to get a better look at Shu's work. It wouldn't take more than an hour or two to alter all the clothes in the box, as he moved with a precision that surely surpassed even professionals. The rhythm was almost hypnotic to watch, until the point where Shu paused to look over his shoulder.

"Must you stand so close? You haven't even unpacked your belongings, despite that I told you to do so, so it is absolutely inane to stand there watching me."

"Ah, 'm sorry. Ya said not ta touch anythin', so I didn' wanna go loadin' my stuff up on yer bed, or anythin'." As he rambled, he unzipped the backpack, pulling out some broken stuffed animals, shoving their insides back in, and wondering, for a split second, what could be done with them.

"Itsuki-san, do ya think ya could patch these li'l guys up?" he asked, his voice betraying hopefulness.

"Absolutely non," was the reply, after seeing the state they were in. "Did you get those from the trash bin, or something?"

"Yeah! All they needed was a li'l love, n' all, so I figured I'd keep 'em till I found out how ta fix em. So, if ya won't, could ya show me how ta sew?"

"Teaching you to stitch together filthy scraps of fabric is, at best, my lowest priority."

"Nnah... Alright," he muttered, placing the stuffed animals on the bed. The chip bags, he supposed could stay in the bag. As for his clothing, he put the torn-up ones in the same pile as the stuffed animals, and separated the rest. "What should I do with my clothes? Wearin' them'd be perfectly fine, but I guess it ain't really allowed anymore?"

"I will clothe you sufficiently, so you're just as well off getting rid of them."

"Nn, I don' wanna throw 'em out, though. Maybe I could take 'em back home, or give 'em away, but some of 'em ain't even that bad, yanno? Like this one," he pulled out a black sweater and started rubbing at it, "it's my favorite."

"What you actually do with them is none of my concern. I said you may as well get rid of them."

"Mm," was his response, feeling at the soft fabric of the sweater. "I dunno." He would figure out the logistics behind it all later. As it was, he piled everything back into the bag, save for a nearly-headless teddy bear, and without thinking pushed the backpack under the bed. The humming of the sewing machine started up again, and Mika crawled into the bed to sit while watching. His hands sunk into the mattress as he moved, and sitting on it felt like he was being carried away on a cloud. It was entirely too relaxing, watching him in silence, clutching a teddy bear, sitting on the softest mattress he'd ever felt, and before he knew it he was laying down and drifting off into overdue sleep.


	7. work in progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: self hatred, self harm (implied)

When he awoke, it was to Shu pulling the covers back, calling out his name for what must not have been the first time. He didn't remember tucking himself in? "Nnnn, 'm awake, 'm awake," he mumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. 

"As you had well be. It's time for dinner." He didn't wait for Mika to follow his lead, so the other scrambled out of bed in order to catch up to him.

Dinner was no more eventful than lunch, however upon returning to his room, Shu read over his notebook and began crossing things out. A few seconds of this, and then, "It seems as though that's everything that's necessary to do today. Sit down."

Newly energized, Mika complied, watching as Shu collected a small assortment of items; a pair of scissors, thread, a pincushion, and several pieces of fabric in odd shapes and sizes. He spread them out in front of Mika, who simply let out a "nngh?"

"It would be more useful to me if you were able to provide help with detailing. I won't show you twice, so pay attention." He ran Mika through the basics, teaching him in theory how to thread a needle, although in practice not trusting his clumsy hands and opting to do it for him, and showing him some stitches, including one that would be useful to sew heads back onto plushies. He also demonstrated the basic function of the sewing machine, refusing however to allow Mika to use the particular one at the table. In a brief time, Mika practiced on his own, and came out with stitches that by no means would suffice for Shu, but which were relatively straight and even, by his own concession. Elated by his progress, Mika took a length of thread and got to work putting the plushies back together, sitting on the bed as to allow Shu to work on other projects.

When it was finished, he looked at the teddy bear. Its glass eyes were scuffed, it was understuffed, and black stitches showed up around its neck where Mika had made them imperfectly. It was covered in dust, and if washed it would become three shades lighter. Mika held its paw, running a thumb over it, thoughtlessly smiling.

"Hey, Itsuki-san. Do ya remember the first time we met?" he asked dreamily.

"I would be concerned if you did not remember yesterday." 

"Ahaha, even in one day my whole life's gone n' turned on its head. But no, I mean a looong time ago. We musta been in primary school." He didn't meet Shu's gaze, but he had apparently drawn the other's attention. "I was goin' out, takin' the trash out, y'see. But the kids at that place, they had a real bad habit of throwin' stuff out, just cuz it's got a couple holes in it. So I would go through the trash sometimes, n' pick out stuff that was still good. I remember grabbin' some stuffs, n' I turned around, and there ya were right in front of me. I jus' about died, y'know, ya really didn' look like a human or anythin'. I thought ya were some kinda god, so I tried ta reach out n' grab ya, and then ya were gone jus' like that. Every time I look at Mr. Bear, I think about that day."

"Now that you mention it, I suppose I do recall that. How foolish, Kiryu and I were."

"I went back there every day fer a while, wonderin' if it was some kinda divine message. N' in the end it was, wasn' it? I saw yer face on the television, n' I couldn' help myself but ta go to a live. I spent all my money on that, n' I got a seat in the way back, so I couldn' even see ya, hardly. But even then, it felt like it was angels singing ta me, y'know. I woulda been happy just ta go home, havin' that in my heart. It was that kinda thing, where it woulda stuck with me forever. If I'd died on the way home, I woulda gone, 'ah, it's okay though, isn't it, cause I got ta see somethin' so pretty.'"

"You're severely underexposed to art. In that sense, you're no different from the rest of the masses. It's the ability to appreciate it that's unexpected. Perhaps that was the reason you caught my eye. It was insulting, watching you come into my auditorium dressed for bed. And yet, your demeanor was real. The amount of people who believe that they are cultured simply because they've inherited money is staggering. And below them are those who come to lives only for the sake of killing time, or thoughtlessly enjoying low-tier music, and have no interest in a real performance. Those who can understand, or at least show a modicum of appreciation for, real art are in the minority."

"Sayin' stuff like I caught yer eye, ain't that weird? There musta been a thousand people there, n' I was all the way in the back. Still, that makes me feel a li'l special," he giggled.

"Don't take it as a compliment. It was only because you looked so haggard that there was a chance you would cause trouble."

"Even if it was fer a reason like that, 'm glad. I was thinkin' to myself, maybe somethin' special would happen. But those kinds'a hopes, I'd given up on 'em, until now. So I'm gonna work real hard, if it means I can repay ya for that."

"I expect nothing else. Tomorrow we will go over exactly what standards you'll be held to, and how you currently compare to them."

"Aye aye," Mika responded cheerily. The two contented themselves to work in silence, Mika collecting scraps to fill in the holes in pairs of pants and restoring the rest of his stuffed animal collection to an approximation of its former glory. He occasionally caught Shu glancing over at him, drawing figures in a sketchbook before returning to his current project. When Mika finished his work, he folded the clothes up, putting everything save for Mr. Bear back into the bag, then crawling over to watch Shu, who was far too absorbed in his work to notice the audience, only remembering that the world around him existed when the sun set and he found himself squinting at the dark fabrics, at which point he heaved a sigh and stood up, doing some stretching.

"I am going to take a bath. Do you intend to sleep in the same bed, or on a futon?"

"Uh, I was thinkin', I mean- 's no big deal ta me, either way, but yer bed's real comfy, so I was kinda hopin' I could sleep in it?"

"Then say so. Trying to talk around it is ungraceful, and wastes time. I have no objections to that, so after your bath we will retire to bed together." He laid out his pajamas, then left, leaving Mika alone. 

Looking around at the luxurious room, being alone in it, Mika started to process that the day had been real, that he would wake up here again tomorrow just the way he'd woken up earlier, pulled into the lap of elegance and treated as a treasure at the whims of a curious puppeteer. It seemed unfair, almost. He'd done nothing, thus far, to deserve an ounce of this treatment, while the children he'd left behind who hadn't stumbled upon a miracle barely scraped by, and most of them would meet the fate that he had feared. He would have to do something to give back to them, as soon as he could. At least for now he could plan on bringing them some extra clothes and toys. The thought put a little smile on his face, and as he absently looked around he locked eyes with the doll on the table. He hadn't gotten a good look at her yet, and now that he did, he noticed that she had an inexplicably lifelike quality to her, as if she were simply inhabiting the doll's body rather than being a doll, and could start talking at any moment. "It's nice to meet ya," he greeted her out of a strange compulsion. "Yer real pretty."

Shu came back in, and must have heard something through the door, because he gave Mika a look of concern, before stating, "Leave."

Putting his clothes aside, he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over him, the steam purify his breath. As usual he kept the light off. He knew all of his scars - or at least most of them, as they seemed to multiply without his knowledge. In time, Shu could heal them, and turn his skin into a fresh, beautiful canvas. But who had put them there to begin with? Him tripping, bumping into things, and the cuts... all caused by the same good-for-nothing who wasn't even deserving of parents. Who had nothing to live for except somebody he met yesterday, and who had just as much incentive to throw him out. He wondered faintly if he'd ever be enough for anybody, and focused his mind instead on the wonderful rosy scent of the body wash and the way his skin came away from it feeling softer. 

He skipped out on a bath. Being alone with his body and his thoughts for any longer than necessary never served him well. It was only a few minutes after he'd left that he returned, finding Shu absent and some pajamas strewn out for him, changing into them in the closet.

"Kagehira," came Shu's voice, just as he had finished changing. "Come here." Tagging along after him, they ended up in the restroom, where Shu had laid out an assortment of items, some Mika didn't recognize.

"A toothbrush, naturally." He held up the items in turn, cluing in to his confusion. "A multivitamin. Starting tomorrow, you'll take this in the morning. Facial cleanser, serum, and moisturizer. Every morning and night." He demonstrated the use of each of them in turn. "Scar cream. Every night." He placed droplets onto Mika's arms, rubbing them into the especially old or large scars.

"There's a lot that goes inta bein' pretty, huh?" Mika said, getting to brushing his teeth.

"It's a relatively basic routine. Though I suppose it may seem complicated to the likes of you. Regardless, I am going to bed. Breakfast will be at 6:30 tomorrow, and I won't wait around for you." Mika didn't have a chance to reply. Well, it was fine, it was later than he normally woke up to begin with. He managed to put all the beauty products on in order, a feat only accomplished by the fact that anything involving Shu's face seemed to burn itself into his mind. By the time he was back to the room, the lights were out and Shu seemed to be asleep.

Mika crawled into the bed, which didn't seem cramped even with the two of them, and turned to the window. A dim light illuminated Shu's sleeping face. Beyond the glass were the stars. Somewhere, orphaned children saw the same sky. Somewhere that seemed so far away, but really, they were all tied to the same world. The strings could tug, and they could fray, but they could never separate. If Mika looked down, he might have seen some of those strings, extending from the tips of Shu's fingers into his heart.

He didn't feel tired. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a looming voice, echoing all of his worries. But being where he was tonight, he somehow didn't feel the need to listen. No matter how vast the universe was, how many possibilities there were for failure, none of that had to matter right now. He laid his head down, and pulled Shu's arm close to his chest. He floated gently in the shadow of the moon, feeling for the first time in his life a real calm. Sleep came slowly, but sweetly.


	8. passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: disordered eating

He woke up later than Shu, but not much. The sunrise gave the room a dim orange light, welcoming him into the new day, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. The door opened, then shut, and again he was alone. His clothes were laid out in front of him, nothing fancy, but in fact a set of exercise clothes. Curious, he changed into them, before running through his morning routine and joining Shu just as breakfast was complete. Out of force of habit, he started opening drawers and cabinets to set the table.

"Nnah, Itsuki-san, where's the bowls n' stuff?"

"I don't recall asking for your help. Sit down."

"Nnn," he whined, even as he did so. "I help- helped every day with the kids' breakfast n' dinner, yanno."

"And I'm certain you've broken more than your fair share of plates." He doled out their food, on Mika's plate another impressive quantity. "You'll finish your food today. You'll need the energy."

Mika opened his mouth to protest, but it wasn't really going to get him anywhere, and although more than he was used to, he could handle what he was given, he hoped. In reality, the pace he was forced to go at put him about on par with Shu's, but despite the food being relatively light, he ended up feeling a little sick. Regardless, Shu seemed satisfied, and cleaned up after the both of them today.

He supposedly had things to do afterward, for conveniently enough time for Mika's stomach to settle, at which point he showed Mika to a spare room that had been revamped into a small practice room. He ran Mika through a series of dances, exercises, and tests to mimic the entrance requirements to Yumenosaki. To his surprise, Mika passed each of them with relatively little guidance, although he began to sway and complain afterward, to which Shu called a break.

"Two weeks will be more than sufficient to ensure your admission," he declared, handing Mika a bottle of water. "Your stamina is low and your steps are clumsy, but taken as a whole, you certainly wouldn't be the worst piece of 'talent' to sneak its way in, and from that baseline I can refine you."

"Really? I thought I looked pitiful, but was it really somethin' good?"

"You did. Don't mistake it for praise. Yumenosaki claims to have high admission standards, but really, it's a laughably low bar for anybody with actual talent or passion. I, on the other hand, accept nothing less than perfection. If you cannot grace my stage, you will not stand upon it."

"Nnah... That's fair, though, isn' it? The last thing I'd want is ta come into yer group n' drag it down. I can't say I'll be perfect, cuz I'm just me, but I'm already tryin' real hard." 

"Effort that isn't proceeded by results will not be applauded by me, nor anybody else in this industry. Too many come in with the same foolish logic, that their hopes will be enough to outshine the dedicated professionals, and all of them find themselves floored by the realization that the world doesn't care about your intentions."

Mika didn't know what to say to that, only mumbling out a "yeah." Maybe Shu was trying to say that he was falling into the same trap, but he wasn't relying on hope alone. He would go to any extent he needed to to hold on to the opportunity he'd been given.

"Regardless, that will suffice for today. Stay here." He shut the door behind him, and Mika was alone again. He finished the bottle of water, then, glancing at the door as if he were doing something wrong, stood up and stretched out again. He ran through one of the dances in his head, this time paying special attention to where his body was and where it needed to be at each step. Moving one part, one limb at a time, he started to understand how to compile it all into a fluid act, and started running through it, building up a momentum that guided him from one step to the next, feeling as though he really could just run the entire thing through from memory, following the beat in his mind. In his focus, his surroundings melted away, and he hadn't realized the door opened until he saw Shu standing there and, startled out of his flow, fell directly onto his ass. 

Shu didn't say anything about it. Neither did the boy next to him, the angel that walked by his side. Mika's first instinct was to try to save face, or hide, but he was so... small. Harmless. And he looked at Mika not with annoyance or malice, but with concern. He scrambled to his feet, aware with that small amount of exertion that he was breathing heavily. Neither he nor the angel seemed to want to be the one to speak first, and eventually Shu sighed.

"Kagehira, this is Nito. Nito, Kagehira." 

"It's nice to meet you," Nito finally got out. 

"You too," Mika responded.

"Kagehira is a potential addition to the unit. I will sublimate him by my own hands, and see if he's then worthy to stand on the same stage as we Valkyrie. As you could no doubt tell, my entire day was taken up even getting him into the state he is now. I know," he continued, now engulfed in staring at Nito to the point where Mika may as well not have been there, "that a day without practice would not rust you. But even then, I will never be so apathetic again, that I would for one second allow my darling, exquisite doll to risk slipping out of tune. Forgive me, Nito." He swept aside a strand of Nito's hair, to which the other didn't respond with any obvious emotion, still watching Mika, who in turn stared at the ground awkwardly. Nito moved into what was apparently a typical practice position, which Shu gladly matched, pulling Mika out of the way. 

By the time Mika settled for sitting on the ground, the instrumental to one of their songs was playing. They'd played it at the live, Mika recalled. Listening to the lyrics more closely now, it was clear who was writing them and where he got his inspiration. A sad, almost haunting tale of collapse, a museum curator's work being torn from his hands by the unfaltering passage of time. He wondered if their eyes were as watery as his, but on the contrary, Shu's haughty demeanor from the stage remained, now with a satisfied smile on his face, and Nito's face showed no signs of life. With the illusion brought forth by their perfect sync, he really could be inanimate, being pulled on by Shu's strings, his voice a recording of a human who once was. Mika would never be the wiser. 

When they finished, Shu wasted no time in showering Nito with compliments, to the point where it looked like he was about to kiss him. Nito seemed to tolerate them, at most, the sight of which sent a sharp feeling of- well, he didn't know what, really- through Mika. It wasn't jealousy, that he knew of, but being held so dearly by somebody so majestic - surely there wasn't a greater compliment than that, yet he acted like it was expected, even an annoyance. 

They ran through several songs like that, with Shu either flattering or criticizing Nito based on whether his timing was perfect or off by some tenths of a second, after which point he distributed water again, then left to make lunch. Nito stood over Mika for a couple of seconds before sitting next to him.

"Y'all're really good," Mika said, trying to fill the awkward air of silence that fell between people who didn't know each other well. "I started cryin' again, huh."

Nito took his time to respond. Just as Mika went to fill in the gaps again, he gathered his thoughts. "How did you... get here?"

"Uhh, on a train?"

He scowled slightly, then laid off when Mika looked confused.

"I meant, how did you end up as... maybe part of Valkyrie? Oshi-san doesn't-" He cut himself off for a moment, cringing, as his voice cracked. "choose just anyone," he finished quietly.

"I dunno that part either. I jus' came to a live, y'see, cuz I got a message from God sayin' ta do that. I was tryna walk out n' not make a fuss, n' he chased me down n' grabbed my face, n' hair, and told me ta sing, and said ta go home n' pack n' come over here, n' here I am." By the time he finished his account of those completely normal events, Nito's face had turned into one of pure confusion. 

"He put me in some nice clothes, n' cut my hair, n' he's been makin' my meals, n' everythin'. 's been real wonderful," he continued, in an attempt to enlighten the other.

"What kind of... life were you living?"

"I was livin' in an orphanage. It wasn' bad, there was food n' games n' stuff, but I'm boutta be an adult, so I had ta find somethin' to do real soon or I'd just be thrown away again. That's why I'm gonna try real hard, so Itsuki-san- what'd ya call him, Oshi-san?... Cause Oshi-san saved me."

Nito seemed to roll those words over in his mind. Eventually, he put a hand on top of Mika's.

"You can call me... Nazuna."

"Nnah? Well, my given name's Mika, but, jus' Kagehira's okay."

Nazuna nodded, and if Mika looked closely, he could have sworn there was something like a smile on his face. It vanished as the door opened and Nazuna jerked his hand away. It was only Shu, come to inform them that lunch was ready. They ate in silence, Mika's attempts to break it were met with not much; Nazuna was even less talkative than Shu. As they went about their day, and night fell, they parted ways at the door with promises to see each other on Monday, knowing nothing more about each other than their names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! this is about the pace that chapters will be released from now until whenever i finish this. thanks for your patience (*＾▽＾)／


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